I stood up for the first time at 4:15AM the morning after the transplant. It look a lot of heavy lifting on the part of my nurse, but he got me upright and on the scale to weight myself. This was followed by promptly easing back into bed and shutting my eyes from the huge workout.
(Side note: I don’t have any pictures for the first part of this post because after surgery having your picture taken is the last thing you want. I took time and care to wash my hair before going into the hospital. I reached back the first night & thought a tongue depressor was stuck in my hair from the betadine and whatever else created one big dreadlock on the back of my head. I allowed pictures again after I could brush my hair and wipe my face down. It’s the small things!!)
Phillip was the first to walk when he shuffled to my room the morning after surgery. His room was diagonal to my room on the transplant floor. While I couldn’t see his room from my bed, he could see mine. He said it was a comfort to be able to look out his door and see my room door. He would watch for nurses to come and go and check to see if my call light was on. There were several times he would send his mom into my room to see what was going on or what the doctor had to say.
They don’t room transplant donors and recipients together for two reasons. First, it is hard to see the other person in pain. Second, not rooming together is good motivation to get up and walk to see the other person, and walking is the most important thing you can do when recovering from surgery.
My surgeon was a bit bummed that Phillip walked first, I guess the donor and recipient surgeons have friendly competitions about whose patient will be the first up and about. He did take some solace that I was first to stand.
My first visit with Phillip was very sweet. We were both drugged up and exhausted. Mostly, we simply sat together with our eyes closed. It was so wonderful to have him there, and of course, I wanted more than anything to take his pain away. He was gracious as always and was way more concerned for my health and the health of his kidney in me than for his own discomfort. His presence is immediately calming to me.
It was the morning after surgery that I heard what actually went on during the operation. Everything went smooth and as expected. I had some scar tissue that had to be navigated because of prior operations, but nothing that was too complex. Putting a kidney in is much like plumbing – hook up the vein, artery, ureter and you’re good to go. My incision is 6 in. long diagonal from my hip bone toward my pubic bone. It is gorgeous: thin and flat with stitches on the inside and some sort of super glue on the outside.
The only tough part of my operation had nothing to do with the actual transplant of the kidney. Kidney recipients receive a central line during their operation. It is essentially a large IV that is inserted in the neck or upper chest that goes directly into your heart. This is done because of the large amount of immunosuppressant drugs, medications and fluids that transplant recipients need. The vein is larger and can take all of the infusions. The insertion of the central line is supposed to take 30 minutes. Apparently they had a hard time with my veins and this portion of the surgery took 2 hours and four people seven attempts to get the line in. It was someone called in from cardiology that was finally successful. Fortunately, I was blissfully under general anesthesia for all of this. The only funny part was that I looked like I was attacked by a vampire from all of the needle sticks in my neck. I was bruised and swollen all over. Perfect timing for Halloween!
I assumed going into the hospital that I was going to read magazines and watch some good daytime TV; however, in actuality, mostly I laid with my eyes shut. Not necessarily asleep, but without the energy or focus to do anything else.
Phillip’s operation was more complex than mine. His incision is tiny, less than 2 in. long straight through his belly button. The donor surgery is laparoscopic which still blows my mind. A kidney is about the size of your fist, so the surgeons only needs an incision large enough to insert the instruments to release the kidney and slip it out. That said, donor surgery is still major surgery. Kidneys are well protected organs and there is a lot that needs to be moved out of the way to access the kidney. The external scar is tiny, but the internal work is vast. Phillip was soar and out of energy. He too lay with his eyes shut during most of the hospital stay.
I tried to walk and see Phillip just before lunch the day after surgery. My nurse and I got me upright and then my heart rate skyrocketed. My heart monitor alarm started going off and we paused to see if things would calm down. The hospital has people whose only job it is to watch the heart rate monitors of the patients and notify nurses when something is off. Rather than allow me to walk to Phillip’s room, we decided on the intermediary step of sitting upright in a chair to eat my liquid lunch. I sipped broth and waited for my body to calm itself. I eventually made it to Phillip’s room. We walked very slowly as I was reminded to take deep breaths to control my heart rate. My visit was another few moments of sitting together with eyes closed, not quite able to take in what had happened the day before only knowing that there was an amazing amount of love in that room.
Due to the immunosuppression, it was necessary for me to wear a mask anytime I was out of my room.
Love. Love. Love.
I’ll write about the conclusion of our hospital stay in the next post.
Here are the first parts of our transplant journey: